


Untitled (Danny & Allison)

by amorremanet



Series: the Hawthorne Center 'verse [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Absent Characters, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Eating Disorders, Ficlet, Gen, Hurt No Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-08
Updated: 2012-10-08
Packaged: 2017-11-15 17:17:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/529669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorremanet/pseuds/amorremanet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Maybe their parents haven't noticed anything—maybe their parents wouldn't even notice the rumor—but <b>Lydia Martin and Jackson Whittemore have eating disorders</b> would spread through Beacon Hills High like wildfire.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled (Danny & Allison)

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts used: "accusation" for 30 days of drabbles; and "humiliation" for hc_bingo.

"Danny? Can we talk, maybe?"

He sighs and nods without looking up from his chemistry textbook, the notes he's taking out of it. The chair opposite him pulls back and knocks around the floor as Allison scoots it back into place—her voice makes itself immediately recognizable, as does the battering ram stench of her floral-and-citrus perfume. Danny mutters a hello, asks what she wants to talk about or what's on her mind or whatever, but still refuses to look her in the eye.

"Well, it's about Lydia and Jackson?" she says, and he glances away from his book just enough to see Allison fussing with the hem of her sleeve.

"What about them?" He has an idea and he hopes it's wrong.

"I think we need to try talking to them…" Letting go of her sleeve, she turns her attention to her hair, scrambling her fingers through it and tucking it behind her ears. "About something serious? …Danny, I think—have you ever thought—I think Jackson and Lydia might have some kind of eating disorders?"

Her words smack into him like a mack truck, slice through him with icicle talons, and leave Danny's chest feeling completely vacant—holed out and like she's emptied his guts all over the floor. And because he says nothing—because he does nothing beyond gaping down at his textbook and his notes—she just keeps talking. She goes on about how she's noticed this, and thinks she saw that, and has Danny noticed how neither of them like doing this other thing, it's worrisome to say the least…

They have to talk to Jackson and Lydia, she says. They have to do something for their friends before either of them gets any worse, and she read online that everything can only start with talking—openly, honestly, supportively.

"Do you think I haven't _tried_ talking to them, Allison?" Danny snaps, sighs, smacks the edge of the table, but not loudly enough to rouse the rest of the library into paying attention. "Do you seriously think that I haven't noticed that something's wrong with them? Or that I'd let them slide on it because they're Lydia and Jackson and everybody else lets them do it?"

She swallows so thickly, it looks like she has an Adam's apple. Stares at him, wide-eyed, which is the only reason Danny even notices how much he's trembling. So Danny lets another sigh come shambling up out of his throat and hunches over his textbook, leans closer to Allison because their friends would never forgive him if someone eavesdropped on this conversation and started spreading it all around the school.

Maybe their parents haven't noticed anything—maybe their parents wouldn't even notice the rumor—but _Lydia Martin and Jackson Whittemore have eating disorders_ would spread through Beacon Hills High like wildfire. And Danny isn't going to be the douchebag responsible for getting that rumor started in the first place. He won't humiliate them—he won't risk triggering them—like that. Not when Jackson's his best friend since kindergarten and not when Lydia's so important to both of them.

"Look," he tells Allison, "I know you're not going to like what I have to say about this, but we _can't do anything_ about this. Not won't, not don't want to—we **_can't_**."

She shakes her head, and her voice wavers just as much. "There's always something we can do—"

"No, Allison, there really isn't. Do _you_ have an eating disorder? Has anyone ever even thought that you might?" He only waits long enough for her to whisper, _no?_ "Me either. Which means we have _no idea_ what's going on for them and _we can't help_."

"Well, we can talk to them, at least, can't we?"

"The last time I tried to talk about it with Lydia, she didn't talk to me for two weeks, and the last time I tried with Jackson, he spent the next month trying to live off of Gatorade and brown rice sushi." Danny spits those truths out before he can think to stop himself, because if he hesitates any, then he won't say anything. He's being blunt—maybe too blunt, judging from how Allison's paled and started looking like she could collapse at any moment—but it's nothing that she doesn't need to hear about the matter at hand.

"I don't like this any more than you do," he says, "but… our best friends hate themselves and we can't help them. The most we can do is be there for them and try to understand and hope that their parents intervene before they turn eighteen. And that's a pretty big _if_ in both cases. We'll only make them worse if we don't handle everything carefully."

Allison shakes her head again, combs her fingers through her hair, pushing the thick curtains of black back and off her face. "So how do we handle it carefully?" she whispers.

Danny shrugs, reaches over to squeeze her wrist. "I have no idea," he confesses. "We just have to watch what we say and be prepared for anything."


End file.
